


The Spectre of Hattington

by rumpledspinster



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), ouat
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 23:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6630769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumpledspinster/pseuds/rumpledspinster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the early 1900s, Belle and Jefferson are twins living together in their family's ancestral home, a home that is rumored to be haunted. Their dear friend Lieutenant Rumford Gold has been released from the military for ominous medical reasons and has come to stay with his two nearest and dearest friends for some rest and relaxation, but what they all get is a ghostly mystery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spectre of Hattington

The bells of the village church chimed as the car carrying Lieutenant Gold drove up the muddy road to Hattington manor. The sound of the bells echoed off the countryside in an ominous way that only added to the uneasiness of the foggy moors. Hattington manor was an antiquated but commodious manor house. It was built by Sir Jefferson Hattington milliner to the queen and was now the home of his descendent, Jefferson Hatter the third and his twin sister Belle. Set on a grove of tall dark trees, legends had sprung up about it that added to its already storied reputation. The people of the village regarded the whole area as forbidden and the twins themselves as odd and perhaps cursed. It was for this reason that rumors often spread about the two and thus their social lives were lacking.

But at the moment every room of the manor was occupied (a very rare occurrence) except the oak room. Little did the twins know that the arrival of Belle’s beloved Lieutenant Rumford Gold would cause the mysteries of the oak room to intrude themselves upon their lives in such a strange way. The manor was fit to bursting with guests already, invited to stay the week by a bouncy Belle who had felt her spirits begin to dampen in the ongoing gloom of the manor and a hopeful Jefferson who relished the opportunity to show off to someone other than his sister who knew all his tricks and secrets like the back of her hands, so it was somewhat to their dismay when a telegram arrived that morning announcing that Rumford would be arriving that afternoon. He had been honorably discharged from the military for medical reasons and hoped that a stay in the quiet moors with his best friend Jefferson and beloved Belle would help him to relax and steady his nerves. Belle nervously stared at the telegram. 

“If you stare at that any longer you’re going to burn holes in it Bells”, Jefferson put his hands on his wee sister’s shoulders. He could read his sister like an open book and he knew that her imagination was creating the worst possible scenarios for the source of Rumford’s “medical reasons”.

Belle sighed, “Your right, everything will be fine. I’ll take care of him and we’ll pick up where we left off.” But even as she said the words she felt like they were a promise she couldn’t be sure of keeping. 

The chimes of the grandfather clock announced that it was just after four in the afternoon. Belle bit her lip and looked down at her clothes. “I need to change. I want to be a heavenly vision for him when he arrives.”

Jefferson smirked, “Well if that’s what you’re going for then I think your birthday suit is probably your best option.”

Belle playfully punched her brother in the arm, “Ha, ha”. Jefferson watched as she hurried off toward her room and then he made his way downstairs just in time to hear the heavy knocker on the front door clang. He opened the door to a very worse for wear looking Rumford. 

Jefferson eagerly welcomed him into the foyer, grabbing his ruck sack from his weary shoulder and leaning it against the newel post. “Gold my friend… you look like shite.”

Rumford sighed at the relief of losing the ruck sack before replying in a tired huff, “Well you can’t fault me for false advertising because I guarantee that what it says on the tin is what you get.” 

Jefferson smiled at Rumford’s comment before closing the space between them and embracing him, “It’s good to see you again.”

Rumford sighed, exhausted “It’s good to see you too.” 

“Rumford!” Belle appeared at the top of the grand staircase in a brilliant blue tea length sleeveless dress. He took in her wavy chestnut hair and the glittering gold heart shape locket around her neck, the one he had given to her before he had shipped out that held a picture of them together and the inscription “Always in my heart”. He genuinely smiled for the first time in a long time as he took her in. 

Belle bounded down the stairs at a dangerous speed when all of a sudden she lost her balance on the second to last stair and fell, flailing toward the marble floor of the foyer. 

“Got ya!” Jefferson had stopped her fall just in time. Belle sighed in surprised relief. Jefferson chuckled, “Wow Gold you’ve got my sister quite literally throwing herself down the stairs to get to you.”

Rumford smiled shakily as he took Belle into his embrace and kissed her head before looking to Jefferson, “I’ve told her she needs to give up those ridiculously high heels she wears.”

Belle piped up with a, “Hey! I need the added height if I want to keep myself from being trod upon by all the ridiculously tall people in the world.”

Rumford smiled down at Belle before embracing her tightly once again. Belle noticed the cane he gripped tightly and desperately wanted to ask Rumford about his time away from her and the meaning of the ominous “medical reasons” mentioned in his telegram, but she couldn’t find the right words. After all she shouldn’t push, he would share if he wanted and she would just have to be patient. Belle tried to focus her mind on simply having him back in her arms when she noticed just how thin he was. “Rum! You’re so thin!”

Rumford kissed her head once more, “I suppose I’ve lost a bit of my appetite lately.”

Belle smiled, “Well I’ll just have to help you get it back.” She worried that he would see the way her smile didn’t reach her eyes, and indeed he did. 

Jefferson broke the tension by picking up Rumford’s rucksack and slinging it over his shoulder, “I’ll take your things upstairs while you two go have a seat. We have guests over for the rest of the week so all the usual rooms are filled. I hope you don’t mind, but the only room left is the oak room.”

Rumford shrugged, “Why should I mind? Is it a closet?”

Jefferson laughed nervously, “No…actually it’s the best guest room in the house. It’s just…not that I believe any of it, but the staff seem to think the room is haunted.”

Belle shot an angry glance at Jefferson. Rumford was here to relax and already her brother was winding him up. She turned Rumford’s face to look at her with a gentle yet firm hand upon his cheek. “The staff are overly superstitious. The room is just very…old. But now that you’re here I’ll set about redecorating it. After all this time that antiquated furniture is due for a refresh.”

Jefferson set off to put Rumford’s things into his room and have a maid clean and air it out, as Belle took Rumford on a tour of the manor from top to bottom, library to scullery. 

Belle introduced Rumford to the other guests, Lord and Lady Nolan and Belle’s childhood friend Ariel and her husband Eric. Together they all enjoyed a delicious four course meal in honor of Rumford’s arrival (Belle tried to keep her obsessive focus on how much Rumford was eating as nonchalant as possible, but failed miserably at it) and then retired to the sitting room. A storm had rolled in and had begun to create an ominous atmosphere that Belle worried would set Rumford’s nerves on edge. She knew that he hated storms as much as she did, and she could see that he was already somewhat unnerved. She motioned to Jefferson, wordlessly relaying that he should start a warm glowing fire in the fire place to ease the tension of the room. 

The silence was broken by a smiling Lord Nolan, “So Rumford, did they show you the blood stains?”  
Rumford looked confused and somewhat alarmed at the question while Belle furiously signaled with her eyes and practically yelled telepathically for Jefferson to derail the train wreck of a conversation that was about to take place.

Lady Nolan piped up, “It’s absolutely ghastly! And to think that someone was murdered in this house in the very room you are staying in.” Lady Nolan shuddered. 

Rumford looked at Belle for confirmation of this gruesome revelation, but Belle could only open and close her mouth like a flopping fish on the deck of a boat. Jefferson, sensing his sister’s distress piped in, “Honestly someone is bound to have died just about everywhere these days! And don’t forget about the dinosaurs! Of all the people on the planet to have a gripe worth haunting about it would be them, but you don’t see a ghostly Jurassic Park anywhere.”

Belle’s brain had successfully rebooted at this point and she was able to put a warm hand over Rumford’s and whisper, “It’s just a stain on the wood from a leak or spill. The ghost story about the room is just something every generation of adults in this family have used to keep children from snooping around in there and finding their birthday and Christmas gifts early.” 

But just as Belle felt she had calmed Rumford somewhat, Lady Nolan butted her big head in once again, “But it isn’t just your room that is haunted. The whole area is! Ooo! We should go to the glen tomorrow! They say the keeper’s daughter was seen to enter it and was never again seen by mortal eyes!”

Belle attempted to lighten the mood by adding, “That doesn’t make a place haunted, the way the fog and mist blanket these moors it’s a wonder anyone saw her go in to the glen in the first place.”

Lady Nolan pffted before adding, “And then there are all these ghastly portraits”, her voice dripped with disdain, “they are absolutely nightmarish!” Lady Nolan waved her hand around before gesturing to the portrait above the fireplace, a portrait of Jefferson and Belle’s deceased parents. 

Belle looked as if she might cry. She felt like she was back in school and had been stripped bare in front of a cruel and jeering audience. Jefferson’s blood boiled, but he kept a cool exterior, he had always been better at hiding his emotions. “Hey now, that’s our family you’re talking about.”

Lady Nolan, who was already past the point of sloshed, took another gulp of wine, “I’m sorry Jefferson, but you must admit that your father had the look of a horror movie villain and your mother while pretty, was far from a rose.” 

Belle nearly knocked over her glass of crème de menthe as she leapt up and fled the room. Rumple stood up carefully limping somewhat as he held tightly to his cane and followed her out while Jefferson bored daggers with his eyes into Lady Nolan’s oblivious head.  
Lord Nolan smiled uneasily, “I think it’s time we retired to our room.” He mouthed a silent apology to Jefferson as he led his inebriated wife out of the room and upstairs.

Jefferson found Belle and Rumford on the canvas couch in the conservatory, Rumford’s arm protectively around Belle as she sobbed into her hands. The rain outside was a continuous susurrus of sound as it blanketed the windowed roof and walls, while the wind chimes outside tinkled out a tune. The room filled with light from the lightening outside and the thunder rolling made both Belle and Rumford shutter. Jefferson closed the gap between them and knelt before his sister. He brushed the hair from her face and held her head in his hands, urging her to look up at him. Belle sniffled as she looked up at him through red rimmed eyes. 

Belle’s lip wibbled as she whispered, “They aren’t really my friends are they.”

Jefferson knew that his sister meant it as a statement, a hard realized truth, but he answered her all the same, “No love, they aren’t.”

Belle nodded as she rolled her lips inward and held them closed tightly. She trembled feeling the tears struggling to once again make it to the surface. Jefferson wiped away her tears with his thumbs. “Hey now, they don’t deserve your tears.”

Belle nodded sadly, “I really wanted them to like me.”

Jefferson sighed, “Bells, narcissistic people like that are incapable of caring for anyone unconditionally outside of their own little egocentric world. It’s time you stopped letting people treat you as a pawn and started demanding they treat you like a queen.”

Belle smiled through her tear streaked face, “Couldn’t I start out as a rook? I don’t think I can pull off queendom.”

Jefferson smiled as he pressed his forehead to Belle’s, “You are already a queen sis, don’t let anyone tell you different.” He turned toward a smiling Rumford, “Is she not a queen Rumford?”

Rumford turned Belle to face him and pressed a passionate kiss to her lips. “You’re the queen of my heart.”

Belle smiled and nuzzled into the crook of Rumford’s neck. 

“Well, I’ll leave you two love birds to make sweet music in peace.” Jefferson gave a mock bow and left them in the conservatory, alone once again. 

For a moment they simply held each other in silence, but it finally became too much for Belle, “Does it hurt?” she whispered.  
Rumford mumbled, “Hmm?”

“Your injury to your leg, does it pain you terribly?” Belle’s voice was tender and concerned.

“Ahh, so you noticed. It pains me somewhat; the cold air exasperates it. It’s the injuries that you can’t see that are the more difficult to live with.” Rumford’s voice was sorrowful and the sound of it broke Belle’s heart.

Belle nuzzled her head against his chest as she whispered, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rumford sighed before replying, “For now, just know that I saw terrible things; felt, smelled, experienced things that will forever haunt my nightmares.”

Belle felt her chest tighten as she listened to his words. Her heart ached for him, and yet she didn’t know how to help him other than to simply be with him. She hoped that would be enough. 

Rumford tried to change the subject, “So your family has a ghost story, perhaps you can regale me with it seeing as the atmosphere is perfect for spooky fare.”

Belle pulled away from him just enough to look up at him incredulously, “You really want me to share it?” he nodded, “You’re not afraid it will give you nightmares?”

Rumford smiled sadly, “Dearest I would have nightmares regardless.”

Belle sighed sadly as she began the tale. “The house and land was first gifted to Sir Jefferson Hattington and upon his death it was passed on to his son. That son had one legitimate son, a knight by the name of Sir Jeffers, but it was rumored that there was an illegitimate son that was the true and rightful heir to the estate. For years Sir Jeffers ruled this land with an iron fist, he had a very bad reputation and was not a very nice person, but one day a stranger the spitting image of his long dead father was said to have arrived. The domestics would tell me stories when I was growing up that the night of the familiar stranger’s arrival the two men had fought behind closed doors of the study, and it was overheard that the stranger had said that he had the means to strip Sir Jeffers of that which he loved the most securely hidden in his trouser pocket. After a time, the two men emerged and treated each other as old friends might. Sir Jeffers called for wine, desserts, and chesses to be brought out and the two indulged until the wee hours. The stranger retired to the oak room and nothing more was heard from him until the next day when at noon time the butler inquired at his door asking if he was in need of any assistance. When the stranger didn’t answer, the door was opened to reveal that the stranger was dead on the floor. There was never an investigation, and the body of the stranger was hastily buried the next day, but it is the belief of most that Sir Jeffers had poisoned the stranger and snuck back into the room after he had passed on because when the servants went in to strip the linens and clean the stranger’s clothing his trousers were nowhere to be seen.”

Rumford looked deep in thought, “Why would he take the trousers? I can see searching the pockets and taking their contents, but why take the trousers?”

Belle shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know, but it is also said that a great many years later my great-grandfather was having an area along the garden wall dug up in order to put in new shrubbery when the gardeners came across molded fabric that upon further inspection seemed to be the tattered remains of a silken pair of breeches that had papers folded within them. The papers were taken to my great-grandfather, but because of the dampness of the grounds and the passing of time, they were no longer legible.”

Rumford still seemed to be deep in thought about the story Belle had just told, and the nagging question of why Sir Jeffers would take the trousers, when Belle stood up and taking his hands into her own eased him to his feet. She suggested they retire for the evening and Rumford agreed. They set off up the stairs and Belle bid him goodnight at the door of the oak room.  
The room was incredibly spacious, more of an apartment then a room, and though the fabrics and tapestries were worn and tattered in places the room still had its charms. Rumford set to preparing for bed and laid out his clothes on the upholstered chair that stood sturdily next to the full length mirror across the room. He was about to settle into bed when he stopped and stared at the door. He knew that he was perfectly safe here in the manor house, but he couldn’t stop the unease he felt and the anxiety building behind his ribs. He was his most vulnerable when he was asleep and he couldn’t allow himself to be helpless. He sighed as he crossed the room and bolted the door shut. He felt silly as he climbed into bed and pulled the covers over his legs, but he knew that if he hadn’t bolted the door he wouldn’t have stood a chance of falling asleep at all. 

The next morning Rumford awoke feeling sore all over. His hair was a bit damp. Hmm, he couldn’t imagine he sweat in the night as he remembered being quite chilly at one point. He shook his head deciding to pay it no mind as he carefully crossed the room to the chair on which he had lain his clothes. That’s strange, he thought to himself as he lifted his shirt to reveal that his trousers were missing. He looked under and to the floor beside the chair, but they were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps I forgot to lay them out. He emptied his ruck sack and folded his clothing, putting it away in a nearby drawer as he went and found to his further dismay that he was in fact missing a pair of trousers. Someone must be playing a trick on me, he thought as he dressed and crossed the room to head downstairs to breakfast, but to his surprise the door was bolted shut. That’s right, I locked it before I retired…but then how did the trickster get in? He shook off his momentary doubt, surely there must be a key to the door. 

As Rumford came down the stairs he heard a scuffle of words and things being moved, then he saw an irate Lady Nolan come stomping into the foyer shouting, “I’m getting out of this house of…evil!” Lord Nolan was pleading with her to calm down as he lugged their luggage behind her. The butler then came in through the front door to announce that the car they had requested had arrived. With that said the Nolans headed out. Belle stood silent in the foyer, biting her bottom lip and Rumford knew her well enough to know that she was trying to talk herself into something. Sure enough she ran out after them. 

“Snow!” Belle shouted as Lady Nolan was about to enter the car. 

She turned and replied with a curt, “Nothing you say will make me stay another moment in that cursed house.”

Belle huffed, “I’m not going to ask you to stay, but I would like to know why you accepted my invitation to begin with.”

Lady Nolan pursed her lips, “I suppose I wanted to see if the rumors were true.”

Belle looked hurt and confused, “But I thought we were friends.”

Lady Nolan sighed, “We were…in school. But now…there just isn’t a reason.”

Belle shook her head in upset frustration, “What does that even mean?”

Lady Nolan sighed as if annoyed to have to explain it, “Well in school you were so good at studying and writing and I knew that if we were friends you would help me with all that hard stuff.”

Belle felt used as she stated, “So as long as I was useful to you we were friends? That is not how friendship works.”

Lady Nolan huffed as she entered the car, “Says the girl who doesn’t have any.”

Belle turned so Lady Nolan wouldn’t have the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Rumford had come out in time to hear the last of the exchange and see the hurt in Belle’s eyes. “Come now sweetheart. Pay that harpy no mind.” Belle nodded weakly as she let Rumford hug her warmly. They returned to the house and had breakfast with Jefferson, Ariel and Erik.  
With a mouth full of toast Jefferson asked in a muffled voice, “So what bug crawled up her bum?”

Belle glared disapprovingly as she swallowed her sip of tea, “You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.”

Jefferson swallowed his mouthful of toast and repeated the question. Belle sighed and replied, “Snow seemed to think that the spirits of the house (Belle wiggled her fingers in the air) were out to get her for being “honest” last night.”

Jefferson nearly spat out his tea before answering, “Seriously?!”

Belle nodded. “Snow said that she saw a terrifying figure dragging something behind it crossing the grounds in the wee hours of the morning and that she heard ominous footsteps on the stairs and in the hall. I told her it must have been her imagination, but she said that when she had David investigate he saw that the hall carpet was wet as if someone had come in from the rain.”

Jefferson smirked, “Well it serves her right that the non-existent spooks spooked her.”

Just then Ariel spoke up in a meek voice, “Umm, Belle…Eric and I are going to head home today.”

Belle looked upset as she asked, “Why? We had plans to picnic this weekend.”

Ariel nodded, “I know, but I’m just not feeling up to it. I think I might be taking ill and it would be best if I headed home now.”

Belle nodded sadly, “That makes sense. Perhaps you could come down and visit again?”  
Ariel flinched slightly before answering, “Sure. Maybe next year.” With that said Ariel and Eric headed back to their room. 

Belle having suddenly lost her appetite, stared down at her food dejectedly. “Maybe we are cursed.”

Jefferson mocked surprise, “Us? Cursed? If anything we are simply too marvelous. People are blinded by our brilliance; it’s as if we are radioactively charming.”

Belle giggled and sniffled as Rumford carded his hand through her hair. 

The rest of that day was uneventful as Ariel and Eric avoided everyone until they were packed and it was time to say goodbye. Belle spent most of the day in the library reading poetry to Rumford. At last the day was done and everyone retired to bed. Once again Rumford found himself bolting the door more for peace of mind then necessity and then laid his clothes out on the chair. As he did so he paused and remembered the disappearance of his trousers and how in the hustle of the morning’s events he had forgotten to inquire about them. He shrugged thinking it silly to dwell on as the trick had already been played and climbed into bed pulling the covers over his legs. 

The next morning, he again felt sore, more so then he had the previous day. He thought it odd that he would be in so much pain when the bed seemed comfortable enough. He moaned as he crossed the room to retrieve his clothes from the chair and was annoyed to see that his trousers were once again missing. Jefferson, he thought with a scowl. His friend had been a bit of a trickster when they were young, and undoubtedly he thought this little annoyance to be hilarious. Rumford retrieved another pair of pants from his folded clothing noting that it was his second to last pair, and dressed made his way downstairs to breakfast. 

Belle met him in the dining room and instantly looked worried, “Darling you look unwell.”  
Rumford shrugged, “I’m sore and tired, that’s all.”

Belle hugged him warmly, “Are you not sleeping well? Is the bed uncomfortable? I could put you in another room or you could sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch? Or Jefferson could stay with you.”

“Speak of the devil.” Rumford muttered as Jefferson appeared at the doorway to the dining room. 

Jefferson chuckled, “What have I done to earn such a moniker?” 

Rumford pointed an accusing finger, “You have stolen my trousers two nights in a row. It wasn’t funny the first time and now that I am down to my second to last pair it is even less funny.”

Jefferson looked genuinely confused and a bit worried, “Rumford, I promise you I didn’t take your trousers.”

Rumford thought for a moment about the first night it happened. Belle had told him the story. No…she wouldn’t try to scare him…would she? He looked at Belle with hurt filled eyes, “Belle, did you do this?”

Belle looked extremely worried and hurt, “Rumford I would never try to scare you! Especially not now when you are so vulnerable.”

Vulnerable…she thought him vulnerable…weak, helpless. Perhaps there really is a ghost…No, no they are trying to trick me. They want me to question my sanity. They wouldn’t do that. They love me…don’t they? Perhaps I am unwell. 

Rumford stumbled backward and away from them lost in his thoughts. They both reached out to steady him. Belle pleaded, “Rumford, you’ve gone pale and peaked. Come and have a seat and try to eat some breakfast.”

Rumford shook his head as for the moment he felt unreal, as if his body was not his own. He felt as if he may float away, but then Belle and Jefferson’s arms were firmly around his. After a time, he came back down to earth and realized that he was laying on the couch in the drawing room with his head in Belle’s lap. 

“Belle? I think perhaps I’m losing my sanity.” Rumford whispered sadly, the words causing Belle’s bottom lip to wibble as tears pooled in her eyes. 

Jefferson crossed the room and knelt beside them. He put a hand upon Rumford’s chest and exclaimed, “Nonsense! That’s the only insensible thing you’ve ever suggested. There must be a reasonable solution to the disappearance of your trousers. Hmm, walk us through your evening as you readied yourself for bed.”

Rumford talked them through his routine, noting that he had bolted the door both nights.

Jefferson seemed deep in thought as he considered the evidence. Indeed, there was a key to the room, but it was in their elderly butler’s possession and Jefferson couldn’t fathom him pulling such a prank. He supposed it could be another member of the staff…

Belle loved a good mystery and was already in full detective mode as she bit her bottom lip in thought. “Well it is obvious it is not a ghost, if Lady Nolan’s story is to be believed then there is a good chance that the figure she saw is the thief, and as far as I know ghosts don’t leave wet footprints. It must be someone on the staff since it isn’t us.”

Jefferson assured Rumford, “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to the staff and sort this out. In the meantime, you can have full access to my closet.”

That night as Rumford readied himself for bed he took a deep breath as he bolted the door. Jefferson was right. There is no ghost. Rumford repeated this to himself as he finally drifted off to sleep.

Belle and Jefferson awoke in the wee hours of the morning to a blood curdling scream. They both rushed into the hallway and upon seeing each other dashed to the oak room. They could hear crying and wailing from within as they tried in vain to open the door. Belle began to plead desperately, “Darling you have to unlock the door! Please sweetheart! We are here! You aren’t alone. Open the door.”

At last Rumford had found the strength to crawl across the floor and open the door, immediately collapsing into Belle’s arms. She soothed him and played with his hair as she held him and rocked him back and forth. 

Jefferson searched the room, seeing to his dismay that another pair of trousers had been filched. “Gold?” when that produced no response he whispered in as soothing a voice as possible, “Rumford, did you see who took them?”

Rumford was once again on the verge of tears, “There was a smell of decay; of rotting flesh. I could feel the cold wind on my skin and it was like I was back…I saw a corpse of a man, flesh rotting off of him with empty eye sockets. He smiled at me and pulled my pants over his decayed legs. He looked in the mirror and then disappeared, leaving only my reflection.” 

Belle held him and whispered reassuringly. “You’re safe now. We will solve this.”  
Rumford once again was crying as he sought to hide his face in Belle’s chest. Jefferson nodded his agreement with his sister and they helped Rumford downstairs. 

Rumford spent the day sitting in a chair in the drawing room staring out at the foggy moors. He had said he didn’t feel like talking. Jefferson had nodded and taken Belle aside to talk in privacy. “How are we going to solve this if it really is a ghost?”

Belle looked up at her brother with an annoyed look on her face, “It isn’t a ghost!” 

Jefferson shrugged, “Fine, then how do we proceed?”

Belle looked from side to side, making sure that they were indeed alone, “We have a stakeout.” Jefferson looked intrigued as Belle continued, “You remember when we were little, we found that there is a priest hole in the oak room leading out to the pantry.”

A smile crept across Jefferson’s face, “Oh yeah, I forgot it was there. We were so scared when we saw that it led into the oak room, I guess that’s why we didn’t play in it after that.”

Belle shrugged, “Yes, well we aren’t eight anymore.” She took a deep breath. “Try to calm Rumford down and make him feel safe. Once he is asleep, we will sneak in to the priest’s hole and watch to see who comes to take the trousers.”

Jefferson took a deep breath, trepidation was written all over his face. Belle looked annoyed as she repeated, “It isn’t a ghost!”

That night, after much prodding and consoling, Rumford went to bed again laying out his clothing and bolting the door. Jefferson and Belle huddled together in the priest’s hole peering into Rumford’s room through a peephole behind a tattered tapestry. At long last it seemed that Rumford had fallen asleep, now they need only wait to see who showed up. 

Rumford began to toss and turn. Belle worried he was having a nightmare and wanted to go to him, but Jefferson held her back. Just as it was becoming too much for Belle, Rumford went still. Belle felt relieved until she saw him sit up and get out of bed. Forgoing his cane, he limped to the chair and grabbed his trousers. He then limped to the door and unbolted it and walked out into the darkened hall. 

Belle and Jefferson hesitantly pushed the hidden door open and followed Rumford out of the room, down the hall and down the stairs. Belle whispered to Jefferson, “Perhaps we should call out to him.”

Jefferson whispered back, “I think he is still sleeping. Let’s just see how this plays out first.”

They followed Rumford as he made his way in to the conservatory and to the back door. They watched as he slipped on the mud boots resting by the back door, pulled the coat hanging there over his night shirt, and grabbed the shovel leaned against the wall. He then limped out into the stormy night carrying his trousers and dragging the shovel behind him. 

“We have to stop him Jefferson! He’ll catch cold or be struck by lightning!” Belle was anxious ball of worry, but Jefferson steadied her with a hand. 

“Let’s give him a minute to see where he goes.”

They followed him out and watched in dismayed confusion as he made his way to a place near the garden wall where the dirt appeared to be disturbed. He then began to dig. Belle wanted to stop him right then, but Jefferson was too intrigued to see this weird series of events out to their end. 

Belle was chilled to the bone and dripping. She had watched in helpless horror as her beloved had limped out into the cold, wet night and was now slaving over digging some sort of grave for trousers. He had just dropped the trousers into the hole and began to fill it in when she could take no more. “I have to wake him up.”

“Belle! I don’t think that is a good idea!” Jefferson shouted, but Belle was already at Rumford’s side and begging him to look at her. 

At the touch of her hand on his back he swung around and nearly hit her with the shovel. His eyes were crazed as he held the shovel out like a spear and kept Belle at bay. Belle raised her hands and pleaded with him, “Rumford it’s me! It’s Belle!”

He held firm to the shovel as he shouted, “I won’t surrender! I know what you lot do to the men you capture! I won’t live like that! I won’t be tortured!” It appeared that he was about to run at Belle, but at that very moment Jefferson had managed to sneak behind him and put him in a secure choke hold. Belle screamed as Rumford attempted to hit Jefferson in the head with the shovel, but Jefferson kicked out Rumford’s bad ankle sending them both falling to the cold, wet ground. Jefferson quickly climbed off of Rumford and rolled him over. It appeared he had hit his head on the edge of the shovel’s blade, as blood poured down his face. Belle cried out in terror that her beloved had been killed as the sight of so much blood began to cause her to see lights behind her eyes. Jefferson looked dumbstruck as he stared down at the unconscious forms of both his sister and his best friend. 

Rumford rubbed his head. It throbbed and his whole body ached. He moaned and felt Jefferson shaking him slightly and calling out to him “Rumford? Are you awake? Can you hear me?”  
Rumford opened his eyes and noted that it was night and they were outside in the misty fog, the rain from earlier in the evening having dissipated. He was shivering and felt as if the cold had seeped through to his very bones. He was confused as he asked, “What…Why are we outside?” Then he noticed the blood on his hand, the shovel on the ground, and Belle laying lifeless and as pale as a ghost. 

Rumford shook violently and pressed his hands to his head. What had he done? He felt as if he couldn’t breathe. He gasped for air, gulping and hyperventilating. Jefferson placed his hands over Rumford’s “Everything will be alright. I need you to calm down so that we can help Belle. Then we will all go back into the house.” Rumford focused on Jefferson’s words and was slowly able to catch his breath. As blood dripped down and into his eye he realized that the blood from earlier had been his own. What had happened? Jefferson helped him over to where Belle lay and together they helped Belle in to a seated position with Rumford propping her up from behind.

Belle opened her eyes unseeing as lights once again began to dance before them and she stared uncomprehendingly at Jefferson as he tried to speak to her, but the ringing in her ears was drowning him out. Little by little she began to make sense of the situation and remembered the events of the evening. Rumford! Belle called out desperately, “Rumford! You’ve killed him. My beloved is gone.” She began to sob and didn’t seem to hear Jefferson nor Rumford. In a desperate move to gain her attention, Rumford turned her in his embrace and kissed her deeply. Belle melted into his kiss before opening her eyes and startling at the sight of him. “Rumford! Oh sweetheart, you’re alive! Blood! You need a doctor!” Belle tried to get to her feet quickly, only to slip on the wet grass and fall back down into Rumford’s lap. 

At last the three of them made it back into the house. Belle held a towel to the gash on Rumford’s head as the two of them sat before the fireplace in the great hall. Jefferson returned with towels and plush robes for them all, then warmed his hands before the fire. “I’m gonna get us a pot of tea. I called the doctor and he said he’ll be down when he can.”

Belle nodded as Jefferson left to get the tea from the kitchen. Belle helped Rumford out of his wet night shirt and pants, pausing briefly to take in the lines of his body and then helped him into the robe she then removed her own soaked clothing and wrapped up in a robe. Jefferson returned and they emptied the pot of tea. Belle and Jefferson then described the night’s events to Rumford who became increasingly embarrassed. “I’ve been sleepwalking.”

Jefferson nodded, “It appears so.”

Rumford closed his eyes and leaned back against Belle as she continued to put pressure on his gash with the towel. Finally, he replied, “I used to sleep walk every now and again when I was little, but I was never violent.”

Jefferson shrugged, “You’ve been through a lot lately, it’s understandable.”

Rumford closed his eyes once more, “No, it’s not. I couldn’t live with myself if I had hurt either of you, especially if I had hurt you Belle.”

Jefferson mumbled under his breath, “I’ll try not to be offended by that.”

The doctor arrived and stitched up Rumford’s gash and bandaged it as needed. He told Rumford that he didn’t think that his somnambulism was worth worrying over at the moment. It was a side effect of the PTSD and could be avoided with proper rest. He suggested that Rumford try to take a couple of naps during the daytime and have a bedtime routine, something that he would find calming. Belle decided, and pretty much demanded, that Rumford would be sharing her room. He tried to protest that such an action would cause talk and bring her shame to which she had smugly replied, “Well then I suppose you will have to marry me earlier rather than later because we are sharing a bed and that is final.”

Rumford smiled at her tenacious spirt and the firmness of her words. They had been engaged since before he had shipped off and his life and the world had changed. It had always been his intention to marry her, but he had wanted it to be perfect for her. She deserved more then he could give her as a husband, he doubted he would even be able to carry her over the threshold, not that it mattered since they would be living in Hattington Manor so perhaps it would be more fitting if she carried him over the threshold. 

Belle had somehow sensed his worries and put them to rest with her fervent words and gentle kisses. And so it was that beyond all that he could have hoped for or expected, they were married that Sunday. At his wife’s insistence they napped together during the day and he found that with her warm weight in his arms and her scent surrounding him he felt more at ease then he could ever remember feeling. 

Epilogue  
“Ugh! This drawer won’t open.” Belle muttered, frustrated at the old desk in the corner of the oak room. She, with Rumford’s help, had set about redecorating it. It was the grandest room in the manor, and now that she and Rumford were married she thought it should be theirs as it was more of an apartment then a room, with its own private bathroom and would afford them greater privacy. 

Rumford came over to the desk to take a look. “It’s a secret drawer dear, it is opened via more covert means.” Rumford felt around under the desk, before placing his hand in the open drawer adjacent. He smiled as his hand felt a raised button along the side panel, “There we go.” He pressed it in and voila the stubborn drawer popped open. “Hmm.” He lifted out a leather bound book, a stack of letters tied with twine, and a tarnished silver box. 

Belle’s eyes lit up as she took the book into her hands and gently opened it. “Oh my…” a broad smile crossed her face. “Rumford! This is Sir Jeffer’s diary! This must have been his room at some point.”

Rumford raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Huh, maybe I’ll finally find out why he took the trousers.”

Belle smirked, “Maybe we’ll find out that he isn’t really a murder after all.”

Rumford sighed, “Well there is one thing I know for sure, now that you have all this interesting stuff to preoccupy you we won’t be getting much done in the way of redecorating for a while.”

Belle nodded as she took the book, box, and letters to the library. Rumford followed and set a warm fire in the fireplace before heading to the kitchen to get them a pot of tea to share.

Belle curled up on the plush couch and was soon engrossed in the tale of Sir Jeffers.  
***  
Rumford had eventually left Belle to her new mystery and had set about spinning some yarn from the wool that had been collected over the past few weeks. It had been a trade that his aunts had raised him to do, and it allowed him to clear his thoughts and meditate. At last he came to the end of the bag of wool and looked at the time. It would be dinner soon. He sighed as he got up and went to the library to try and tear Belle away from her reading long enough to have dinner. 

“Oh Rumford! I have to tell you what I’ve learned.” Belle was excited and her eyes lit up as she smiled. 

“Alright,” he said taking a seat next to her on the couch. “Tell me the tale.”

Belle took a deep breath and began, “From what I’ve read it seems Sir Jeffers didn’t have a very pleasant upbringing. His father had been in love with the keeper’s daughter.”

Rumple interrupted, “The one that went into the glen and was never heard from again?”

Belle smiled, “One and the same. Anyway they were madly in love with each other, but she was a commoner and his father had threatened to disown him if he didn’t go through with the arranged marriage that had been set up for him at his birth. Reluctantly he went through with the arranged marriage, and consummated it on his wedding night as he was expected to do. Yet he would still make efforts to sneak away to see his beloved, and it was during one of these rendezvous she revealed that she was pregnant with his child, and as it happens his wife was also pregnant. It was for that reason that he became worried at this news for he knew that his new bride’s family would kill the child of his beloved if they were to find out about it in order to save their kinswomen from disgrace. It was decided that she must leave, and so he gave her money and promised that they could correspond through letters using her father as a middle man. 

For about five years they corresponded through letters, it was at that point that his wife found out about the affair. She was furious and threatened to tell his father and her own. Sir Jeffers was just a little boy at this time, but he had seen the argument unfold from the peephole behind the tapestry. He recalls in his diary seeing his father grab his mother by the arm and yank her to the floor. She had cried out and held her arm to her chest. His father had then knelt by her and held her, whispering apologies and making promises for the future. His mother had calmed somewhat, but was still crying when his father offered her a drink of wine for the pain and promised to then fetch a physician. His father returned and handed his mother the wine, she began to drink it and his father left the room. Sir Jeffers then recalled seeing his mother acting strange, she seemed tired and dropped her glass to the floor causing the stain that remains there to this day. She then began to convulse before becoming unnaturally still. Sir Jeffers knew then what his father had done.”

“Did he tell anyone about it?” Rumford asked, putting an arm around Belle’s shoulders.

“No, apparently he was frightened. Then as he grew up his father began to drink heavily and on more than one occasion of mistreating and beating his son he told Sir Jeffers that he hated him for not being the son that he wanted; the son his beloved had given birth to. Sir Jeffers found out later that his father had been hopeful that after his wife died he would be able to marry his beloved, but it seems that she was already dead at that point from a fever of unknown origin and his father had not yet gotten the news. His hopes of being reunited dashed, he took out his frustrations and anger on his son Sir Jeffers.”  
Rumford nodded, “I see, so the familiar stranger is indeed Sir Jeffers older brother.”

Belle smiled slyly, “He is indeed, but the story is more interesting than that.”

Rumford raised an eyebrow, “So the plot thickens?”

Belle giggled, “The plot might as well be mud.” She took a sip of tea and continued with her story. “Sir Jeffers father eventually died, supposedly from too much alcohol, and Sir Jeffers took over the manor and the township. He was a young man, barely out of his teens. It was around this time that he met and fell in love with a woman named Rebecca. He writes some incredibly romantic poetry about her, but she seems to have been an incredibly flighty girl. She would enter courtship with him and then pull out, she would accept his offers of marriage only to change her mind; but still he loved her. At one point she moved to London to live with an elderly matron aunt after her father died. They exchanged love letters, but the letters stopped and Sir Jeffers began to worry.

Not long after that the familiar looking stranger arrived. Sir Jeffers knew who it was immediately. The fighting that was supposedly overheard was over ownership of the manor and the land, but no one but Sir Jeffers knew what the papers within the stranger’s pocket said.”

Rumford smiled, “Was it their father’s will?”

Belle ginned, “No, though that would have made things easier. It was a letter from Rebecca. She wrote to him begging him to turn over the manor to his brother. She claimed that her family had fallen into debt at his hands and that if Sir Jeffers did not give the manor, land, and his title to his brother; she would be sent to debtor’s prison.”

“Wow, I did not see that coming!” Rumford exclaimed.  
“Neither did I.” Belle shook her head. “At this point Sir Jeffers and his brother argued. He pleaded with his brother, but his brother remained firm. Finally, Sir Jeffers acquiesces, telling his brother that he only needs Rebecca to be happy and that he will gladly hand over all that he asks in the morning.”

Rumford sighed, “But he doesn’t.”

Belle sighs as well, “Nope. He is taking a page out of his father’s play book and approaching the situation the same way that his father dealt with his mother. He even mentions in his diary thinking that it is poetic justice that he would kill the son that his father so loved in the same manor that his father killed his beloved mother. He writes that he indeed poisoned the stranger’s wine, and helped him to his room. He then gave himself an alibi of going to bed, only to sneak out and use the priest hole to sneak back in to the room later after the poison had done its work. Upon seeing that his brother was indeed dead he sighed in relief thinking that now he and his beloved Rebecca might be happy. He writes on that he noticed his brother’s trousers on the floor and looked through the pockets looking for the letter from Rebecca. He found the letter, but he found something else as well, a gold pocket watch. On its back it was engraved with “To my one true love, Chad.”

Rumford looked confused, “Who’s Chad?”

Belle continued, “The dead brother, but the really interesting thing is what was inside.” Belle grabbed the tarnished silver box, opened it and pulled out the gold pocket watch.

Rumford took it into his hands, “Why would he keep this?”

Belle smiled sadly, “Open it.”

Within Rumford saw a lock of brilliant red hair and a picture of a women with pouty lips and coy eyes. Belle then handed him a second watch from the silver box. This watch was silver. The back was inscribed “From your darling Rebecca” inside was a lock of brilliant red hair and the same portrait as the previous locket. For a moment Rumford simply stared at them, “Why would he have two?”

Belle looked sad as she answered, “He didn’t.” 

Slowly understanding crept up on Rumford. “That witch of a woman played him.”

Belle nodded, “Sir Jeffers was furious and heart broken. He pocketed the watch and shoved the letter back into the trousers not wanting to see Rebecca’s scrawling handwriting. He knew he didn’t have much time before someone might notice the stranger was dead. It occurred to him that Rebecca might come looking for her supposed one true love and that the letter could be used as evidence of his crime. He thought of burning the letter, but then changed his mind afraid that it wouldn’t burn completely or it would seem suspicious that a fire was started so late. He hastily ran out to the garden wall and buried it trousers and all.”

“But he kept the watch.” Rumford muttered as he handed them back to Belle and she placed them into the silver box. 

Belle carefully closed the box, “When the death of the stranger was no longer the talk of the town, and Rebecca had not shown up, he decided he would travel to London to see if he could find her.”

Rumford looked expectant as he asked, “And did he?”

Belle sighed, “Yes. He uses some rather foul language in that portion of his diary. Suffice to say that he found her and showed her the watches, and she tried to claim that he was the one she loved and that she only feigned love for his brother when she found out that the man her father had left her indebted to was the rightful heir of Hattington manor. He feigned believing her and let her believe that this would be like all of the other times she had come crawling back to him and he had taken her back into his arms, but then she noticed that she had become weak and dizzy.”

“He didn’t.” Rumford stated in disbelief.

Belle simply nodded before adding, “Yep, he poisoned her. He wrote in his diary as a final thought that one of the things he remembered most about his father when he was growing up is that his father didn’t use mouse traps. His father believed that the best kind of trap is the one that is entered gladly, thus he would put out poisoned cheese and grapes; and that the most memorable thing his father had ever said to him is that people who are a nuisance to you are no better than vermin and vermin cannot be permitted to live.”

Rumford blanched, “I’m almost sorry I know what happened. The truth is so much worse than the rumors.”

Belle sighed sadly, “I think all ghost stories are in the end.”

Rumford shook his head, “Come on, before Jefferson eats everything.”

Belle smiled as she and Rumford made their way out of the library and downstairs to dinner.


End file.
